Posted by @forbins0218 in the SBIX Essay Contest.

ARE YOU EXPERIENCED?

What is it?

An experience is born as a result of environmental intake and manipulation. It is the sum total of your surroundings combined with your attitude. To me Superball was just that: new friends, old friends, imaginative escapades, remembrance, embracement, anxiety and fulfillment. I could ramble on about every experience I had, but a few stood out to me that truly captured the event and all its participants. The following are 5 experiences that I will always remember.

Getting a late start.

I was ready on Wednesday to leave, mentally on Monday. I had checked and double checked everything at work, packed like I was moving for the entire summer (a common practice of mine, I am kind of like a walking fallout shelter), and on the that Thursday, the first day I had off in 10 days I slept to the late time of 5: 00 AM. Easy to say I was AMPED!

My Brother, my good friend and I were planning to leave for the event at about 5:30 PM. We figured we had a 2 hour drive at we would be in and setup by 9:00 PM at the latest. Now for those of you that have traveled with like minded Phish heads, you know you always need to add an hour just for “the unexpected.” In fact, I think I will coin this term in the rest of the essay. “The unexpected.” Forgot your ticket, got out of work late, having your appendix removed, Elvis stops by for a beer. You know, normal everyday shit that pops up! 5:30 rolls around my brother and I are ready to go! No friend. 6:30 rolls by still know friend. Finally we get a text that say “dealing with BS, be there soon.” I immediately got upset. My first thought was that he was f***ing around with last minute ticket trades for leg two, or doing something like getting a pedicure.

Anyways….. 7:00 PM he is finally here. My brother and I were going to throw glow sticks at his car. He turns the corner and I see his face. NOT GOOD! Come to find out that he was fired and was completely stressed out. I gave him a hug we all cooled down, jumped into the car and off to the show! I found it funny how upset I got. I was so close to the place, obviously was not going to miss any of the music, but then I realized, I was stressed. Work can do that to you, especially nowadays. We work ourselves silly and really don’t take the time to enjoy the world around us. On the way down, I told myself, “Relax the world will spin beside it’s self and suck you in, with threats and hopes beyond compare.” This sums up my attitude for the weekend. Take it in, enjoy your freedom and embraces the moment. This also prepared me for more of “the unexpected.”

Seeing Trey!

I saw trey 3 times over the weekend, aside from being on stage.

Driving out of the village of Watkins Glen toward the raceway we see three giant buses roll by, obviously the band. We honk and wave, but see only the driver. I drive a bit more and realize that there were only three and maybe we missed the other bus. Which band member did we miss? We take the turn onto the country road leading to the gates. Slow, but steady moving traffic. The sun is setting over the beautiful finger lake drumlins. My brother put on 2001 from Darien Lake. I was jamming, floating, using every part of my dash board at a drum set. I had that feeling in my gut. You know the one. It is a good gut feeling. The one that you get when you are just in love with a person, place, situation, song, you name it! Then very slowly we see a beast of a bus coming through the slight sliver of the sunset which hung in the sky. It’s getting closer… and closer… and closer… then I see a very recognizable smile in the passenger side of the bus waving at cars. It was trey. I nearly lost control of my car at 5 miles an hour to thrown both hand out my window screaming “WOOOHOOO!!!” That was it; it was going to be an awesome weekend! That was number one.

We had “Glen Close” a.k.a “Custy” camping. By the way, for me a near 30 year old festival vet. It was totally worth all the extra cash. The track runs around three sides of the campground, and each day you would see the bands tour buses roll in and out. There is an area, which happened to be right next to my campsite where the buses would exit the track to enter the backstage area. For about 30 seconds the buses were actually in the campground. It was Saturday morning and I was walking around selling my prints. All of a sudden, there is Trey again! I waved, and he did as well. I would like to think it was at me, but it could have been the 50 other people around me, or all of us, or…. Wow! The more I write this, the more I realize how strange it is I get excited about catching a glimpse of a late 40’s bearded guy in a van with tinted windows. Anyways, that was number two!

It was Sunday afternoon. I was exhausted. Spent most of the morning meeting up with college friends I had not seen in a while and selling print. The sun by this time had baked me to a crisp, but I still had some energy. I knew I needed some sleep before that nights show. I go back to camp and lay down my bamboo mat on the cool ground under our EZ-up. This was quite a blissful moment. I lay there not really sleeping but not really awake, refueling and soaking in my surroundings. A mixture of music and conversations flowed together like a perfect jam. Yonder Mountain String Band played on a stereo a few tents over, the guy in the camp next to us strummed divided sky on the guitar and my brother and my friend debated what would have been a better name for the late night set. I get up at 6:00 PM , gather my things for the night grab a beer for the road and head on down. Walking out of “Glen Close” camping we pass by the backstage area. A green fence separated the camp site from the backstage area. I glance over quickly and who do I see talking with a big smile, but Trey! That was number three.

It seems silly, but those three experiences really made my weekend. It was great to see the happiness on Treys face, remembering that just a few short years ago it would have been rare to see him in such a great mood. I will always remember those three sightings. They seem so vivid and it seemed as fate wanted me to have them to enhance my weekend and to forever be imbedded in my memory.

Started making sense.

I love late night! I mean I LOVE IT! When I saw that Friday nights late night included a showing of the Talking Heads “Stop Making Sense” there was little that was going to keep me from making it. They are one of my favorite bands. I had recently been playing “Speaking in Tongues” non-stop leading up to the weekend. After the second set, I sprinted to camp. Grabbed four beers, and hustled it back. I rolled in during “Heaven.” Slightly upset I missed “Psycho Killer,” but that was okay. I knew I still had most of the show left. I met up with 4 of my hometown friends. We were all feeling very good! (Wink, cough, wink cough)We danced, drank beers, sipped whiskey from a flask, and lost ourselves in the show. It almost felt like I was at a Talking Heads show. The sound was awesome, and the big screen was great. I have to admit I nearly died of laughter during the part when David Byrne is wearing the over sized suit and flailing his arms. I have seen the video a good 20 times, but this time was the most hilarious. My favorite moment was when David Byrne introduces the band at the end, and everyone in the area cheered! After the show we wandered to the pin-ball lounge before over stimulation and exhaustion took over. We wander back to my friend’s camp and have a night cap. I dance my way back to my camp, with Orchard Lounge playing on my i-pod, wondering how I will fall asleep. It was 3:30 AM. I fell right asleep of both physical and mental exhaustion, but it was one of the best night’s sleep I had in a long time. The next morning I woke up totally relaxed and at peace.

A few random heads.

The first random head was the guy in a couple camped next to me. They were an older couple from long island. We talked, shared food and drinks, had some laughs, the normal stuff you do with neighbors at festivals. We did this Thursday night, Friday night and Saturday morning. I run out to sell some of my prints late Saturday morning, by this time I had sold about 20. I was very pleased. The day before I went to the poster line in the camp ground and shamelessly promoted my poster with the phrase “Buy a poster while you wait for a poster! Looks good on your floor or ceiling, but prefers your wall! It’s not a Pollock, but it will do!” I did not sell any. Back to the story. I was walking back to camp and see my brother with a huge smile on his face. He says, “Did you graduate from Plattsburgh with a guy name Brian?” Now I knew a lot of Brian’s, but something made me think my brother was onto something here. He told me that our neighbor had a son who graduated from Plattsburgh. I get back to camp and start talking to my long island neighbors. Turns out the guy is the dad of one of my good friends from college. We use to jam in the basement at house parties. I had just met up with him a few weeks earlier at the PNC shows for the first time in 5 years. My long island neighbors and I just look at each other in disbelief, and both say “small world!” It truly is. That is the great thing about Phish shows, it is kind of like the “5 degrees of Mike Gordon” everyone knows everyone in some way. Even with 30,000 plus people I felt like I knew everyone!

The second random head encounter took place before the afternoon set on Saturday. As I lie backing in the sun like a turtle on a sunny day, barley able to speak or move, a random guy sits down next to me. He as the Rolling Stones tounge tattooed on his chest. He starts talking about how he is from California, how he loves Phish, but the Rolling Stones is his favorite band. He talked about how he was so excited to see them cover “Exile on Main St.” and that he thought the Phish community in large did not give the show enough credit. I basically bobbed my head, delirious from the sun and wondering, why the hell this guy picked me out of the sea of people to talk to? Was I sending off some signal, maybe I looked like a train wreck and he was trying to keep me alive with conversation! I just don’t know. Anyways, he disappears into the crowd. I thought that was the end of it, until… you guessed it… Phish plays “Monkey Man.” Immediately out of the blue the head reappears, dancing with the largest smile I have ever seen. “Can you believe this shit,” he says, “we were just talking about this!” At that moment, I started to think that some things are not random. “Most events aren’t planned,” but some really seem to be. I was so enlightened by the experience, my energy level shot back up. I cannot remember this heads name, but thank you for talking to me. You made my day! You were “The unexpected.”

Sunday was my day!

I just have a few things to say…

• Soul Shakedown
• Forbins/Mockingbird
• BBFCFM

Please excuse me while I fly off into bliss for a short time, only to land and reform limb by limb. Sunday was one of those shows that gets you really pissed off if you are watching the setlist pop-up on a computer. I consider myself blessed for having been a part of it. I have not been to a NYE show, Halloween show, or any other show that has been filled with antics. I stood motionless during the encore, torn between the band ripping first tube and the great fireworks behind me. This moment had my mind twisted in so many ways and my body shaking with excitements. It was the culmination of just a perfect, perfect, perfect weekend. I spent the entire show with my brother and a few hometown friends I have had since I was in kindergarten. Nothing can really top this moment…. Well, there was my friend who stripped naked and took off running through the crowd during the encore. I did not hear from him until Wednesday. He was okay!

That’s it!

Well all I can say is… “Is it Superball X yet?” Well done Superballers, well done. The manipulation of a raceway into a candy land of music and art, combined with the thousands of people taking in and putting out such great energy is what made this a special weekend. Each day it felt like I was going to church to rekindle a hope, a belief, a spirit of an idea that sometimes is lost but never too hard to find again. The band, the fans and the staff all worked together as individual cells to generate and energize a mega-organism that was Superball IX. Until next time, may you have many extraordinary experiences.

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